


It Was Jealousy

by casmourde



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:33:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casmourde/pseuds/casmourde
Summary: Charlotte learns of Ted's plans. (This is short)
Relationships: Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	It Was Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> this is short and angsty and also the first time i've written in char's perspective. enjoy

“I’ve gotta go, Char,” Ted said, his voice muffled by Charlotte’s hair. She shifted next to him and craned her neck to look right into his eyes.

After a moment of silence in which Ted started to break away from their embrace, Charlotte cleared her throat. “But… but Teddy...”

He was off the couch now, picking up his jacket from the floor. She watched him move around the room, his movements quick and nervous. 

“Where are you going? I thought… I thought we were going to watch that new movie,” Charlotte added hastily, not wanting to sound desperate; the tone of her voice was so desperate the excuse didn’t help her much.

Sam would be home soon. That thought alone sent earthquakes of panic through Charlotte’s veins. If Ted stayed, then she could call him, say that she had work to do at home and it would be easier for him to go out tonight to avoid all of the technical talk around the house-

“I’m meeting someone,” Ted finally replied, now shuffling around the coffee table for his keys.

“Oh,” she mumbled, still twisting around on the couch to keep her eyes on Ted at all times. “Is it for that huge pile that Davidson put on your desk? I can help with that, he gives me so much work to-”

“Jesus, Charlotte, it’s a date, okay?”

Charlotte’s words faltered.

A horrible feeling had just settled into her chest. It was hollow, heavy, and warm. It trickled down her entire body dangerously, stabbing the ends of her nerves and laughing. The feeling was incomprehensible, it was immediate, and it was terrifying.

She couldn’t speak. Nothing would have come out of her mouth. At this moment, she felt as if she didn’t know anything, but she could recognize the disgusting bitter taste that filled her throat, threatening to spill over onto the couch cushions.

Everything else was a confusing haze of heat that caused sweat to form underneath her already stuffy sweater.

What was this? What on earth was this blanket of uncertainty that was made up of patches of nausea and sewn together with thread of unclenching, furious anger, and why had it been wrapped around her at this very moment?

“Sorry,” Ted said. His voice came from her left, but she could barely see. Her vision had gone blurry. “Call me when Sam’s asleep, okay?”

Charlotte nodded. Her cheeks felt bloated. The back of her throat was a wall of phlegm. If she was crying, she couldn’t feel it - she couldn’t feel much of anything on the outside. She hoped she wasn’t. It would be ridiculous for her to cry over a feeling she didn’t have a name for.

“We’ll watch the movie next week.”

She slowly looked up from her lap to see Ted standing in the doorway. He was smiling, just the tiniest bit, and Charlotte’s body had to endure another wave of that horrible, terrible feeling while her heart hitched up to her throat.

They stared at each other for a few seconds that ticked by like days until Ted finally gave her a small wave and left. The moment the door was closed, Charlotte slumped into the couch and put her head in her hands. Her scalp burned as tendrils of her hair caught in between her fingers and were stretched tightly with the movement of her shaking hands.

She had most certainly never felt this before. Each small ingredient was recognizable - the heat in her cheeks, the sweat on her top lip, the incessant pressure on her temple - but put all together, she couldn’t decipher a prominent taste. She had a hunch that if she did try, she would pass out.

A burst of anger flew through her and she stood, rigidly, to turn off the TV. No movie tonight. It was probably bad anyway. She wouldn’t want to force Ted to sit through something stupid just for her…

As Charlotte rushed to the kitchen to pour herself a drink, she told herself that she didn’t care. Whatever she felt beating at her ribcage, she didn’t care. Whoever was whispering to her that this could have been avoided, she didn’t care. Whichever war her brain and her heart were fighting, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the outcome, or what Ted did in his spare time, or who he knew.

Charlotte slammed a cup down on the counter and opened the fridge so vigorously that the condiments in the side shelves rattled. Barely looking at whatever alcohol she had in her hand, she mumbled nonsense under her breath and poured it into her cup.

Amidst all of the bloodcurdling shouting going on inside her head, she failed to realize that no amount of wine would convince her heart to not care - 

Because she did.


End file.
